Necessity
by Gnine
Summary: What happens when Daniel tries to take a little break…


Necessity   
  
Still huffing from even the short jog in the glaring sun, Daniel Jackson gasped in a deep breath of the dry, hot air as he began dialing the many numbers needed to reach the US out of Egypt; more specifically, the many many numbers needed to reach the SGC.   
  
As his ear began to ring from the dial tones, beeps and electronic voices, he recalled his last conversation with SG-1 over three weeks ago as they stood at the airport, waiting to see him off on this jaunt.   
  
  
"Oh, I also instructed Nyan to help you with anything that can't wait till I get back. He's come quite far with the Goa'uld I've been teaching him but—"  
  
"Daniel, I think we...and the SGC, can manage for a few weeks while you go and…dig up rocks."   
  
He sighed. "They're artifacts, Ja—"  
  
"OK, very very old rocks."  
  
"Jaacck!"  
  
*Flight 701 to Egypt via New York now boarding at Gate 5B.*  
  
"Well, that's my flight." He shouldered one of his carry-ons, Sam handing him the second, after giving him a quick hug.   
  
"Have a good time, Daniel."  
  
"I hope you enjoy your dig DanielJackson."  
  
"Bring us back some nice souvenirs. No rocks!"  
  
"Sir…"  
  
"What, Carter?" She changed her annoyed glance to a smile as she waved. "See you in three weeks!"  
  
"Good morning. SGC receiving, please state—"  
  
"Um…hi." Daniel started, pulled back from his reverie at the sound of a real human voice…finally. "This is Dr. Daniel Jackson. I'd like to speak with—"  
  
"Dr. Jackson? Are you back already?" Was that…eagerness? Daniel had an instant to wonder before the man rushed on. "It was understood that your plane wasn't due back till tonight. We'll send someone to the airport right away…"  
  
"No, I'm sorry…you misunderstood." He vaguely recognized the oddity of the fact that this man, though he couldn't place the voice as someone he knew, seemed well aware of all the details of his travel plans, but he quickly dismissed it as unimportant. "I just wanted to talk to Colonel O'Neill--"  
  
A voice from off to his right interrupted. "Dr. Jackson, we got the supplies. Ready to head back?" One of the dig assistants indicated the newly purchased food clutched in his hands.   
  
Covering the phone, he waved back. "I'll be right there. Just a minute more." Uncovering the receiver, he rushed on. "Listen, just give Jack O'Neill a message for me."  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Tell him I missed the flight and am staying a week longer. Got that?"  
  
"What?! I mean, excuse me, sir, but—"  
  
Did he hear…panic in the other man's voice? Couldn't be. "Sorry, I have to go…you will get that message to him? Thanks." Hanging up, he turned to walk back to the jeep, a small smile creeping to his lips as he thought of Jack's response upon hearing the news. Probably some crack about finding rocks more interesting than them, but at least they were getting another week before they'd have to hear about all these 'oh so fascinating' stones.   
  
His smile grew as the small breeze became full-blown wind as they sped back to the dig site. Despite doubts at first, this vacation had been a good idea, and another week would mean a lot. On the other hand. he'd be happy to get back to his friends, people he didn't have to hide who he was and what he did from. Hope everyone wasn't missing him too much. He resisted the urge to laugh at that thought. No they were probably enjoying their break from him as he was enjoying the vacation…oh well.  
  
****  
  
On the other end of the line, Airman Matheson sat staring blankly for a moment, listening to the hum of the disconnected signal in his ear, dread growing in his belly. Another week?   
  
Slowly rising, glancing around and failing to find anyone to whom he could possibly delegate this distasteful and rather perilous duty, he sighed. Resigned to his fate, he walked slowly from the room, as if a man heading to his execution instead of towards the Colonel's last known location. A location the aforementioned man had been in and out of constantly for one reason or another for the past three weeks, much to his (and the rest of the base's) growing dismay.   
  
The loud and angry sounding voices could be heard even as the elevator doors slid open, and deposited an almost shaking Matheson on the infirmary level. Hesitantly, he began making his way towards the uproar.   
  
"I don't care about your damn tests, I want this stuff off me! Now! Or I'm going to—"  
  
Well, he'd found the Colonel. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. "Ahem, excuse me, sir."   
  
"What?" O'Neill snapped, irritation rising at the interruption. Then, as if realizing the rather nervous state of the young officer he was addressing, he attempted, poorly, to lower his voice. "What is it, airman?"  
  
"Well, sir…" Matheson licked his lips nervously. "I just received a message from Dr. Jackson…"  
  
The Colonel glared at him a moment before his practically non-existent patience flew out the window. "And…?"  
  
The airman glanced left and right, fleetingly trying to recall if his lawyer had ever finished drawing up his will…  
  
Making the final move past the point of no return, he plunged recklessly on. "WellitappearsthatDr.JacksonisstillinEgyptandisstayingforanotherweek…." he gasped out.   
  
Silence. No one moved, no one breathed…calm before the storm…  
  
"WHAT!?!?!?"  
  
******  
  
In the artificial daylight cast by the many floodlights dispersed throughout the half-excavated temple, Daniel carefully perused his latest find. Bent over the large piece of inscribed tablet, a steady stream of mutterings poured forth as he happily translated a language that had not been spoken (on Earth at least) for almost 3,000 years. Oblivious, as he had been for the past three weeks, to the strange looks thrown at him from all directions by his learned colleagues. Glances, given in part, due to the fact that his constant mumbling was being conducted in a supposed long dead language of which no one should have had the first clue as to how to pronounce.   
  
However, as death had proved only a slight obstacle on several occasions, the revival of a dead language had become child's play, a walk in the park, a jaunt through a gate to a planet billions of miles away. In other words, commonplace.   
  
So, blissfully unaware, the intrepid archeologist worked on, ignoring the looks, the whispering…the loud and growing louder argument going on at the entrance, the angry versus panicked voices, the insistent shouts for security, which the dig barely had…  
  
Something, however, did finally break through his deep concentration, and, much to the frustration of his colleagues, it was not their desperate calls for assistance.  
  
Instead, it was an incredibly familiar but always ominous sound: the hum-buzz of a zat gun being opened.  
  
"What the…?" Daniel blinked. "Ah…hi…."  
  
"Daniel, lets go. Right now!"   
  
Jack? "Um…you're in Egypt." Blink.  
  
"And so are you. Soo happy to have that established. But none of us are gonna be here for long, cause we're leaving…now!"   
  
Blink. Huh?…Jack, and he sounded angry…really angry.   
  
"Dr. Jackson, do you know these…people?" A very shaken co-worker, who had just had the pleasure of facing a pissed-off Jack O'Neill, shuffled forward, gesturing to the three figures positioned imposingly in the entrance. Eyes going rounder and rounder as they flickered from the three faces to the artillery they all were brazenly waving around.   
  
It took two swallows before Daniel's voice started working again. "What are you guys doing here?"   
  
"DanielJackson, it is imperative that you accompany us immediately. " Teal'c's deep rumble caused all other ten persons, archeologist and their assistants, to shy back a few more paces, some pressed all the way against the far wall.   
  
Akin to a fish out of water, Daniel simply stared, mouth agape, finally choosing to repeat the only action which he seemed capable of performing recently. Blink. After a minute, well on his way to the path of recovery, he was able to glance down once at the mid-translated tablet, then back up at the team. "But—"  
  
"No buts." Jack sighed as one long-suffering. "Daniel, don't make me use this."   
  
'This' being the zat he waved casually.  
  
It was that all-too-real threat that at last spurred the wayward member of SG-1 into action, springing swiftly to his feet. After all, Jack with a zat was a trigger-happy Jack…i.e., every person in a 100 feet, friend or foe, duck and seek cover…quickly.   
  
However, even with this hefty incentive, the fourth member of the flagship team of the SGC was still reluctant to depart. "I don't believe this…Didn't you receive my message?" Brow furrowed in his normal sign of puzzlement. "I told the—"  
  
"We know what it said. That's why we're here."  
  
"Oh..." A slight pause followed, then a cloud of confusion overcame the clear blue eyes. "Um…Did—"  
  
"Daniel, please just come on." It was Sam's turn to interrupt, her pleading voice, compounded with the unusual fact that she too carried a zat, moving the younger man to a stunned silence once again.   
  
"We can't just allow you to kidnap Dr. Jackson!" Dr. Eilerson, the Expedition leader, put in, making the attempt to sound confident and failing miserably when his voice quavered.   
  
"No, no, it's okay…They're just—"  
  
"Dr. Jackson! It's certainly not OK. They burst in here, demand to take you and point those…things at us!" he finished lamely, then pushed on, desperately trying to ignore the glint reflecting off the nearest zat. "I am responsible for every member on this dig, including you. What would I tell your colleagues, whom, I might add, strenuously stressed the need to return you safe and sound?"   
  
Daniel's gaze flicked to Jack, who shrugged, not meeting his eyes. With a sigh, he turned back to Dr. Eilerson. "These are my…colleagues."   
  
"Ah. Well… That's…disturbing."  
  
"…They're military," Daniel added as an afterthought, as if that could explain their strange behavior. He ignored Jack's glare at the comment, noting from the slight relief on everyone else's faces that, for them at least, this went a long way in clearing up the matter.   
  
"Okay, that's it, Danny-boy, lets go." In three quick paces, Jack was across the small chamber and had seized his wandering archeologist's arm, beginning to drag him towards the exit.  
  
"Ah…Jack? I'm not exactly finished here. Jack? Jack! Stop, what about my stuff? This is ridiculous! I know the way…Jack! I…"  
  
All other occupants in the room regarded the scene in bemused silence, rooted to their spots, unsure if they should…or rather, could, do anything to assist Dr. Jackson as he was hauled from their presence.   
  
"Teal'c, if any of 'em try to stop us, use the zat."   
  
"Jack!?!"  
  
"I understand, O'Neill."  
  
"Teal'c!!!"  
  
In response, the other archeologists quickly found other activities to occupy their attention.   
  
"Jack?…Teal'c?…Sam?… Sam, you gotta help me here! You can't just let him—"  
  
"Daniel, just come along peacefully," she muttered as she took up point, Teal'c falling in to cover their rear, as if to assure that if Daniel did somehow manage to break free of Jack's vice-like grip, he couldn't run.   
  
"Sam?!"  
  
"Plane's waiting."  
  
"Plane? OK guys, this really isn't funny. My work?…my things. Hello? Jack?…Sam? Teal'c? OK, what the hell is going on here? Guys, want to…"  
  
As the cries became too muffled to make out and the group disappeared around a corner, Dr. Eilerson turned to his nearest colleague, frowning. "Well, now I understand why Dr. Jackson was so hesitant to talk about his work."  
  
*****  
  
It wasn't until they were seated and in queue for take off from Cairo, with Daniel having protested all the way, from the dig, to the hotel he'd been staying at, to the airport, that he actually had a chance to comment on the current condition of the rest of SG-1.   
  
"Um…Jack?" he began hesitantly, glancing at the man who was sprawled in the seat next to him, quite a feat in the unbelievably cramped, uncomfortable, ass-numbing seats. "What happened?"  
  
At the perplexed, not to mention annoyed, expression the older man threw him, Daniel indicated the black eye and stitched-up cuts Jack sported on forehead and cheek. Bending forward, he also was able to glimpse Sam and Teal'c's rumpled condition. Another crease appeared in his brow, and his ever-present-as-of-the-past-few-hours confusion hiked up another notch. "Did something…happen while I was gone?"  
  
"Oh, no, something didn't happen. What would make you think that?" Sarcasm filled his friend's voice.   
  
"O..K, then, what—"  
  
"Daniel, I think what the Colonel is trying to say is something specific didn't happen."  
  
"Oh, but—"  
  
"Everything did," she finished. Then, as if that explained everything, her attention returned once more to the scientific journal she was carefully perusing.   
  
"Ah…care to elaborate?"   
  
"Later, Daniel." Jack snapped, and, seeing the protest already forming, pointedly cast his eyes towards the many noisy passengers and flight attendants. "Someplace a little less…public." And, in an effort to forestall any further conversation, he snagged the pillow, muttering about its ridiculously small size, jammed it against the window, and was dead to the world even before the wheels left the air strip.   
  
******  
  
The flight from Egypt to New York was a long one, and the movie, the many drinks and the constant flow of meals shoved in his face just as he was about to finally fall asleep did little to assist the passage of time. And the quick switchover and subsequent New York to Denver flight hardly went any better. In fact, at least twice, Daniel swore time was creeping backwards…oh wait, the time change. It was. Damn!  
  
And, frankly, his three companions were doing very little to help ease the boredom. Not only were they strenuously stonewalling him on the issue of what exactly happened to them, but, more importantly, they refused to specify what chain of events led them to hopping on a plane and hightailing it to Egypt just to drag him back immediately without even a by-your-leave and then refuse to talk to him. At all!  
  
Jack was snoring away contently (and rather loudly) on one side, blocking his entire view of the what little there was to be seen out the window. Teal'c appeared to serenely meditating, an enviable accomplishment in one of these torture chambers they dubbed 'coach'. Sam, who was already a seat and an aisle away to begin with, which would have made conversation hard, but not impossible if she had just made the attempt, instead chose to stick her nose in one of those many scientific journals she had brought, and had now apparently fallen asleep as well.   
  
It was all enough to make Daniel want to scream in frustration and no small amount of confusion. And the long period of time in which he had taken the opportunity to fully study and assess their bedraggled condition only heightened these feelings.   
  
Sam had been walking with a distinct limp and now that she had kicked off her boots in an attempt to get more comfortable, Daniel could see the hint of a bandage under her socks. Not to mention the tips of her hair happened to be singed, as if they had been accidentally (or at least he fervently hoped it was an accident) lit on fire and not put out quite quick enough.   
  
Jack wasn't too better off, bruises on almost every visible surface, including the spectacular black eye which was turning the colors of a brilliant sunset in a smoggy sky. Stitches over the left eye shone starkly against the multicolored skin.   
  
And Teal'c…well, Teal'c was Teal'c, though even he showed signs of stress, not to mention the hand…Daniel found himself almost afraid to ask.   
  
A sudden jerk roused him from his worried musings: the cramped plane touching down. Finally! He hadn't even realized the loss of altitude and for once, thankfully, his allergies weren't acting up and making pressure changes agonizing torture.   
  
The usual post-flight rigmarole ensued and by the time they had breezed past customs using their military IDs, their luggage had already been taken care of, stowed safely in the car sent by Hammond. Once inside, speeding back towards the SGC, Daniel turned to Jack, feeling he had waited long enough to know what the hell was going on. However, he never got past "Wha—" when triple glares fired off from all three of his teammates halted him in his verbal tracks.   
  
Grimacing, he hunched against the door, gaze falling to the passing scenery. Why were they so moody? They'd gotten sleep on the flight!   
  
Luckily, though, the driver wasn't quite so inconsiderate.   
  
"So, Dr. Jackson, how was the trip? Good flight?"   
  
Daniel turned his full attention to the man, thankful for the distraction. "The trip was excellent. We accomplished a great deal. The flight home…was…" Shooting a quick glance at his companions who all steadfastly refused t o meet his eyes. "It was strange," he finished.   
  
"Well, glad to hear you had a good time. Hasn't been the same around the SGC without you."  
  
"…Really?" Tone neutral, leaning towards disbelieving.   
  
"Oh, certainly, sir," the man continued, cheerfully oblivious. " I mean what with us having no clue how to deal with all those artifacts and of course, Colonel O'Neill slamming through the halls after—"  
  
"Airman!"  
  
"Yes, sir?"   
  
"Can it."  
  
"Yes sir, absolutely sir!"   
  
And, much to Daniel's ever increasing frustration, annoyance, worry, and anger, the man obeyed orders to the letter and the rest of the drive was completed in silence.   
  
***********  
  
Weighed down by a suitcase and two backpacks all containing the copious notes, records and artifacts obtained during the dig, Daniel trudged down the halls of the SGC towards his office.   
  
Upon arrival, he used his foot to nudge the door, only to find it would open no more than an inch or two. Putting his full weight and that of his luggage, he shoved--  
  
And almost tripped over the many boxes piled around the door…and the tables...and bookcases and chairs. Amidst all the storage containers were folders upon folders of files, pictures, notes, rubbing, etching, etc. Coffee cups adorned the few other previously unoccupied surfaces. And, huddled among it all, looking very frazzled, frayed and frantic, was Nyan.   
  
Daniel blinked, jaw falling slightly open in astoundment, a reaction he seemed to be experiencing quite often of late. Okay, enough was enough. He was going to get some answers, and it was going to be now.  
  
"That's it. What exactly is going on here—"  
  
"Dr. Jackson?" The quiet, hopeful words were all the warning he got before he found himself fiercely embraced by an exuberant, overzealous assistant who appeared to be almost crying with relief.   
  
Huh? "Uh…Nyan?" he questioned, attempting to disentangle himself from the unexpected contact.  
  
As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, the young man jumped back like someone burned, his face going bright red. "Sorry Dr. Jackson…" he murmured, eyes glued to the ground.   
  
"It's…ah, it's okay. Just a little surprised." He pursed his lips, recalling all the strange behavior he was witnessing of late, as well as the current state of his office. "Um…did I miss something?"  
  
Nyan's head shot up and stared at him, eyes growing by the second till Daniel was afraid they might pop out of his head. It started as a choked-off gasp, then another, and then the laugh burst out, bringing the young man to his knees and tears to his eyes..   
  
"Oh boy…" Dr. Jackson sighed, watching his once extremely competent assistant reduced to hysterical cackling as he flopped about the floor, gasping for breath between giggles.   
  
Adjusting his glasses, beginning to feel as if the crease in his brow was on its way to becoming a permanent feature, a la Jack's, he eased himself down onto one of the creates. He'd just have to wait it out, and then, by God…or gods, or whatever, he was going to get some answers.   
  
*******  
  
It was almost a quarter of an hour later when Nyan finally calmed enough to return to his somewhat precarious perch on the one clear chair. Daniel opted for a seat on the one of the small clear spaces on his desk, coffee in hand. Nyan had wanted some too, but the older man had deemed it unwise to grant the request, seeing as he had enough nervous energy for three, maybe four hyperactive toddlers.   
  
"So…Nyan, why don't we take it from the top…what happened after I left?" Daniel prompted as gently as possible considering everything that had taken place in the last day.   
  
"Okay, from the top. Deep breath, I can do that." The assistant archeologist shifted back, relaxing slightly in his chair. "Well, as you know, you do know, right, I think you know, did—"  
  
"Just take it easy, slowly…What did I know?"   
  
"That General Hammond gave the rest of SG-1 a few days off, of course you know, you must have, I mean—"  
  
"Nyan!" Patience was just about gone. Oh yeah, there it went.  
  
"Sorry, Dr. Jackson. Anyway, Major Carter and Teal'c decided to work on something…I think it's called a…motorcycle, much to Colonel O'Neill's frustration. Apparently he wanted to go…fishing? Anyway, I spent some time with them and used the lull as an excuse to catch up on some work. Or at least I tried to, but after the first day, O'Neill kept coming in here and…well, bugging me."  
  
"Jack…was bothering you." Daniel fought the urge to laugh.  
  
"Yes, he seemed to get great pleasure in distracting me…and then he invited me to go fishing with him."  
  
"He did?" Oops, that was definitely a chuckle...or perhaps a giggle bordering on hysterical. He desperately tried to school his face at Nyan's look. "Never mind, go on."  
  
"Well, once he started coming in, that about ended getting anything done. Then the missions started. Oh, god…the missions." He swallowed once, but continued on without further prompting from Daniel. "The first mission was to P4X-382. Everyone said it should have been a snap, something easy for me to start with. SG-6 had been there earlier, met some natives who seemed to want an alliance with us. They were fairly primitive, but General Hammond reminded us we needed all the help we could get." He looked to Daniel then, hesitating, as if almost afraid to go on.  
  
Daniel returned the gaze steadily, realizing he was going to have to guide him yet again. "You said…should have been a snap. I'm taking that to mean that wasn't the case?" He hoped that would be enough to get the young man talking again because he was quickly losing the very minute amount of control he was still maintaining.   
  
"Well, everything was going fine at first, then Colonel O'Neill….he, well…"  
  
"What did Jack do now?" he demanded with an exasperated groan, resisting the very tempting urge to jump up and shake the rest of the story out of Nyan forcefully. A small portion of his mind registered the fact that this must be how Jack felt every time he was not entirely forthcoming with his explanations or theories….   
  
"He…well..er…he sat on a statue. A very holy one to these people."  
  
Daniel's head jerked in disbelief. "He didn't?"  
  
The young man nodded. "Yes, I wouldn't lie, Dr. Jackson. I mean, I tried to tell him I didn't think it was a chair, but he ignored me." He hung his head as if in shame.  
  
"Nyan, I told you, with Jack you have to—"  
  
"Okay, truthfully, he didn't ignore me…."  
  
"Then—"  
  
"He told me to shut up. Well, not quite so bluntly, but I never even finished the first sentence about natives and beliefs when he was telling me to 'can it' with all the cultural mumbo-jumbo."   
  
Daniel ran his hand over his face in frustration, chin coming to rest in his palm "Yeah, that sounds like Jack. He's always had a problem with sci--"  
  
"—entists," the other man finished. "Trust me, I know. He reminded me of this fact only about a million times. He only makes two exceptions."  
  
"Really…who?" Eyebrows raised high, expression skeptical.  
  
Nyan snorted. "You and Major Carter, of course."  
  
"Ah…No, Nyan, that's where you're mistaken. Jack still has a problem when either Sam and I do what he calls…the 'scientist thing'."  
  
"Trust me, Dr. Jackson. I've seen him with you and now I've seen him with Major Carter   
and he most definitely makes an exception!"  
  
Shrugging dismissively, Daniel motioned for him to go on, and with only a slight grimace, the younger man obeyed. "Well, next thing we all knew, we were the center of a rather vicious and large brawl. We barely escaped with out lives!"  
  
The senior archeologist nodded slowly. "I see…I can understand why that would bother you, but I still don't see why Jack, Sam, and Teal'c had to rush off to Egy—"  
  
"No, you don't understand!"  
  
"I don't?"  
  
"No, don't you see, that was just the beginning!"  
  
**********  
  
A short time later, Daniel found himself escorting his nearly-shaking assistant back to his quarters for some much needed rest. The walk was conducted in silence as he attempted to process all that he'd heard.   
  
He was just thankful everyone was doing as well as they were. It was lucky no one had gotten worse than a few scrapes and bruises in the brawl, and Sam was lucky it was just her hair that got singed. Trial of Fire? That could have been devastating, and it was so obvious…All right, he couldn't blame Nyan for not knowing that language. He'd probably never even heard of the Amazons and had no background on what they might be speaking.  
  
And he guess he could forgive them for the state of his office…it wasn't every day they found what looked like artifacts of the Ancients and if the place was going to be covered in lava in a few days…Still, did they have to pile everything they'd brought back in his office? Surely someone else could have…actually, no, he reminded himself, he was the only who knew any of the Ancient's language.   
  
Poor Nyan, he really hadn't been prepared to handle all this. Speaking of, he glanced down at the man walking at his side. "You sure you're going to be all right? We could stop by the infirmary—"  
  
"No!" was the immediate and very emphatic response.  
  
"Ah…why not?"  
  
"Because it's crowded enough in there already with a lot of people still needing to be peeled and cleansed and Dr. Fra—"  
  
"Peeled…and cleansed?" Daniel stopped, halting the nervous man beside him as well. "Is there something you forgot to tell me?"  
  
"Oh…" Nyan's voice was very small. "Did I not mention the device SG-4 brought back?"  
  
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses for a moment, then returned his eyes to the nervous man before him. "No, Nyan…you appear to have missed that one."  
  
"It was on P6J-743. Only thing there, that and a message which read: the secret to the defeat of our greatest enemy."  
  
"Which was….the Goa'uld? Or something else?"  
  
Nyan sighed. "Well, the Goa'uld was what everyone assumed."  
  
"No one thought to check? Was this found on a planet from the Abydos cartouche room or not?"  
  
"Not…and no one checked…until it was too late."  
  
Daniel was almost afraid to ask. "Too late? What did it do? What was the enemy?"  
  
"Um…would you believe sadness?"   
  
He nodded very slowly. "…Sadness?…And so this device was supposed to…"  
  
"Make people laugh."  
  
"Ah…and apparently their sense of humor is…different than our own?"  
  
After a moment of continual study of the floor, Nyan looked up, a slight smile curving his lips. "Actually, when the green stuff hardened…the poses people were stuck in were kinda funny…"  
  
"Oh boy…"  
  
*********  
  
"Ah…Dr. Jackson, just then man I wanted to see."  
  
General Hammond stood at the head of the conference table, Jack slouched against the wall behind him, as Daniel entered, dazed expression, the result of all Nyan had told him, still plastered clearly on his face.   
  
"General, I just had a long conversation with Nyan and some of what he told me—"  
  
"Dr. Jackson, " the older man broke in. "On behalf of everyone here at the SGC, it's a pleasure to welcome you back from your extend leave."  
  
"Yes…thank you, however, I'd like to—"  
  
Again, as if oblivious to the fact he had even spoken, the General continued on. "Furthermore, I'd like to take this opportunity to inform you of the recent changes concerning our vacation policy. " With a flourish, as well as an ill-concealed…grin was the only word the bemused archeologist could think of to describe the alarming expression, he handed over the new orders. "Straight from the president." he added with what Daniel swore was smugness…from Hammond?  
  
Grabbing them with hardly a glance, he tried once more, to no avail, to question the General. "Sir, about the base…and SG-1, what—"  
  
"I suggest you read those," he nodded to the papers. "Now, Dr. Jackson."  
  
Brow furrowed, Daniel frowned down at the document, mumbles growing increasingly louder and more bewildered as he scanned the new 'orders'. "No leave longer than two days…no further than an hour from base unless on mission…cell phone always on personage…General, what is this?"   
  
"Weren't you listening?" Jack demanded gruffly. "New rules for leave."   
  
"Sir, are these for everyone on base?" he asked, ignoring O'Neill entirely.  
  
"No. Just for civilian archeologist/linguists who are on fulltime field duty."  
  
"Oh…but sir, I'm the only—"  
  
"I know. Dismissed." Without waiting, Hammond turned, strolling back into his office after giving the Colonel a slight nod which gave Daniel the sinking suspicion of exactly whose idea this had been. Once the door swung shut on the General, he turned to the older man, trying to decide whether to be more angry or shocked.   
  
"Uh…Jack?"  
  
"Nope, don't start," O'Neill grinned, coming off the wall.  
  
"But—"  
  
"No buts either," he added, holding up a hand to silence the younger man.  
  
"Jack, is this all because I decided to take a little more…time, " Daniel grimaced. "…which, I might remind you, I barely had the chance to enjoy before you showed up and dragged me back."  
  
"Yeah…it was that…and the incident with the fire and Carter, not to mention the practical joke thingy and all the ancients rocks…"  
  
"Artifacts, Jack…and what about your trouble with the…ah, statue."  
  
"Give me time, I was getting to that! And—"  
  
"I get the point." He sighed, turning.  
  
"Do you, Danny?" A hand on his arm stopped him, dark eyes meeting his. "You're a necessity around here. Understand?"   
  
Daniel broke the gaze first, finding something suddenly remarkably interesting on the floor, but it was Jack who broke the mood. "Besides, you're way more fun to bother and interrupt than Nyan…"  
  
"Thanks…I think." Daniel was silent for a moment, considering his friend's sincere words. Then he smiled slightly. "However," and he glared at Jack. "I still think this," he waved the paper around, then proceeded to crumple it, "is a load of crap."  
  
"You do realize those came straight from the president?"  
  
"So Hammond said."  
  
"And you just—"  
  
"Jack, those were a joke. There's no way—"  
  
"Ah, don't want to hear it."  
  
"Jaacck…." He sighed, then started again as a sudden thought struck him. "Just one—"  
  
"Daniel, I don't want—"  
  
"—unrelated question." They both glared at one another, till Jack relented to the battle of wills.   
  
"What?" he snapped.  
  
"Uh…" Daniel bit his lip, suddenly hesitant to ask. Wondering if he truly wanted to know, he pushed on. "Nyan didn't say…Why is Teal'c's hand blue?"  
  
The End  
  
Yeah!! That's two! Well…three, actually;) 


End file.
